


Reverie's Wings

by lockmyhart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Beauxbatons, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Cinnamon Roll Draco Malfoy, Cute Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter is a Good Boyfriend, Harry is a Tease, POV Draco Malfoy, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 17:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockmyhart/pseuds/lockmyhart
Summary: Voldemort's been vanquished and Harry's living it up as Hogwart's resident Golden Boy.But the fight's only just started.Draco Malfoy, Beaxubatons' student, Potions extraordinaire, and our favourite gay boy has come to Hogwarts.Also featuring: Oliver Wood's the new Madam Hooch- salty edition; tartan-trouting Minnie; and Grey-ish Malfoys!* I'm absolute dog-crap at summaries, but I can certainly promise some smutty-goodness if you overlook that! *





	Reverie's Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! Also, young ones beware: smutty goodness ahead. I've left warnings before and after, so you'll be fine as long as you keep an eye out!

 

_Reverie’s Wings_

 

**A.N. Enjoy! Just some good ol’ Drarry to make your day. 2250 words all up. Pretty long for me- are you proud? ALSO: potentially mature themes below! I’ll leave a mention when it’s coming up, so you can skip it if you want! :)**

 

“Wood. Oliver. Please. You can’t.”  
  
Harry Potter, Gryffindor Seeker, Golden Boy, Boy-Who-Lived and Chosen One; stood before the reluctant Quidditch referee, coach, and former Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood.   
  
“I’m sorry, Harry. But it’s not up to me. McGonagall was very firm about it. Either you improve your Potions grade, or you quit the team.” Wood stated, his voice pained.  
  
“But it’s not my fault! Snape hates me. You know that.” Harry protested.  
  
“I know. But rules are rules,” Wood groaned, hopelessly. “And even our star Seeker applies to them.”  
  
“Damn it.” Harry swore, his back hitting the wall. He slid down until he was crouching, running a hand through his sweaty fringe.  
  
“Yeah.” Wood whispered, sinking down next to him.  
  
‘Hey, you’re the adult. Aren’t you supposed to be all positive and stuff?’ Harry chuckled.  
  
“Probably. I’m bloody not, though,” Wood scowled, leaping back to his feet. “Couldn’t McGonagall have waited till next week? If we lose to Ravenclaw this Friday, I swear- “  
  
“Calm down, Wood. It’ll be fine.” Harry sighed.  
  
But this only enraged Wood further. “But will it, Harry? Ginny’s good, sure. But she’s no Harry Potter, and I’ve heard Ravenclaw’s new Seeker is as fast as lightning. Potter, you better bring your grade up before the match against Slytherin next month, or else...”  
  
Wood didn’t finish the threat, but he didn’t have to. Harry knew his entire future was screwed if he didn’t impress the scouts at the Quidditch Finals. And he couldn’t do that if he was off the team.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be acing Potions before next practice, one way or another.” Harry smiled tiredly.  
  
“You better be.” Wood growled.  
  
Harry nodded in understanding and rose swiftly.   
  
“I’ll see you later, Wood. McGonagall’s expecting me.”  
  
He grabbed his kit and left Wood’s office with a heavy heart.  
  
  
Meanwhile, a certain Draco Malfoy raced through the hallways as if his robes were on fire.

He’d slept in, and was very, very late for his first day of school at Hogwarts’ School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. So late, that he just knew Professor McGonagall- who was responsible for his orientation- had most likely sent an owl to his parents regarding his tardiness.

Just think- the moment his mother read that letter, she’d come flying, ready to bundle him up and take him home. All those months of reassuring his fearful mother that he would be fine would be for nothing.

With that thought, he pushed his burning thighs harder. He looked away from the empty hall before him for a split second, to wipe the sweat from his damp forehead.   
  
Whack!   
  
Ouch.  
  
Draco groaned in pain from the floor and tried to rise. He glanced up to see what was lying on top of him and met two fuming green eyes.

Okay, so not a wall. A person. And a very handsome one at that. Draco slowly became aware of the mere centimetres that separated their faces, and the way his body pressed against the man’s; muscle on muscle, skin on skin.

A red flush crept up Draco’s ears and neck, engulfing his cheeks. The stranger looked awkward, an expression that looked out of place on his face. Thick, furrowed black brows led to a strong nose and jaw- that Draco likened to a sword, and delectable, plump lips.  
  
Although handsome, the stranger’s features dimmed in comparison to his eyes. His eyes truly were the window to the soul, a whirlwind of anger, confusion, sadness, and lust swirling amidst glistening emerald, bubbling just beneath the surface. Draco was sure he could spend hours immersed in those eyes if given the opportunity. Unfortunately, his musings were interrupted by a shrill cackle, from a poltergeist, who smirked at Draco, before zooming away.  


**ALERT: Steaminess ahead! You have been warned.**

  
Draco prayed to the gods that this handsome stranger hadn’t heard the poltergeist, that they could continue staring into each other’s eyes- but alas. The stranger stiffened, and in a hasty attempt to regain his attention, Draco smiled disarmingly. The stranger’s eyebrows rose, eyes flashing in amusement, but nonetheless started to move.

Draco sighed and shifted down just as the stranger shifted up. Their groins brushed gently, but it was enough. The stranger stiffened again, and his eyes narrowed in interest; slowly lowering his body back to the floor. He gave a heated, predatorial gaze to Draco, who was blushing furiously and shifted again slightly. Once more, their bodies ground against each other, creating a small, but alluring friction. Draco felt the heat rising in his core and whined in desperation as the stranger’s eyes flashed with desire.  
  
“Potter!” A surprised voice rung out, ruining the moment and the stranger’s anonymity instantaneously. Potter? As in, Harry Potter? Draco looked at the man in question, whose eyes shone with guilt as the tips of his ears shone bright red. Oh lord, anyone but him.  
  
“Hey, Wood.” Harry sighed, getting to his feet slowly. _Wood? What type of name was that?_

Draco lay for a moment more, trying to make heads and tails of things until _Harry_ offered his hand reluctantly. Draco took it hesitantly and allowed himself to be pulled up. Harry tugged forcefully, causing Draco to fling right into him. Harry’s arms caught him with all the speed and reflexes of a Seeker and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco moved to pull away, but Harry tightened his arms in response. Draco looked up at Harry, grey meeting viridian with an unspoken question. Harry ignored him and focused his gaze on the hint of pink tongue that showed as Draco wet his lightly chapped lips. Harry’s eyes practically smouldered, and Draco very nearly whimpered.  


**OKAY, all PG from now on!**

  
It was at that moment that Oliver Wood decided to make his presence known again.

“Ahem!” He cleared his throat loudly. The boys quickly looked up at Wood, faces’ glowing with mortification. Wood nearly laughed at their expressions but managed to contain it, instead opting to raise a questioning eyebrow.  
  
Harry opened his mouth and rushed out: “It was an accident?”  
  
Wood snickered. “Sure. Look, Potter, I don’t know what you do in your spare time and frankly- I don’t want to. But next time make sure it stays in the bedroom.”  
  
Harry flushed and nodded.  
  
Wood observed the boys for a second longer, before grunting in approval, and marching back into his office. The boys stood outside his office for a moment longer, as the door swung shut behind Wood, before hesitantly looking at the other.  
  
Harry opened his mouth and closed it again.  
  
Draco had no clue what to say either.  
  
Instead, he shrugged weakly and turned to continue to Professor McGonagall’s office. He glanced back, to see Harry glaring at the door violently before he spun on his heel and stormed off; presumably to class. Draco rushed all the way to the office, not allowing himself to think until he was right outside her office. He gathered himself together - he was a Malfoy, after all - and promptly knocked on the door. It swung open instantaneously, to reveal a rather annoyed-looking Professor McGonagall.   
  
Damn.  
  
She opened the door wider, and said, in a sharp tone: “Mr. Malfoy. How lovely of you to join us.”  
  
_Us?_ Draco speculated but scurried into the room nonetheless. McGonagall smiled tersely and gestured for him to sit. Draco sat, and looked around the office. It was rather quaint, with tea stirring itself upon a cluttered cherrywood desk and worn leather seats.

Draco scanned the room absentmindedly, nearly missing the boy sat behind the desk.

_Harry._

Draco started, cheeks flushing in an expression like that of a mischievous toddler who’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He quickly schooled his face into casual indifference but not before Harry and McGonagall caught his face. McGonagall looked curious, but Harry seemed merely amused. Draco breathed in sharply, his mind awhirl with caution and possibilities.   
  
How was he to act after he’d made it out with someone who was sure to hate him? Because Harry would hate him- that, Draco was sure of. The Malfoy family were well-known for their support of Voldemort during the war. The fact that they’d betrayed the man and allied with the Light for the last few months counted for little to avid Light supporters. Draco could still remember when the news came. 

  
~  


Draco had been reading in the library with Narcissa when Lucius arrived.

“Narcissa!” Lucius boomed, his voice slurred and lethargic.   
  
Narcissa paled in fear, the dark circles underneath her eyes becoming more evident. She rose and gently placed her book down, just in time, as the door crashed open. Lucius stood hunched, his eyes bloodshot and hands clenched into fists around his wand. He smiled, beckoning her closer with a finger. Narcissa strode towards him, her head held high, and mouth set in determination- looking every inch a pureblood lady. She stood before him, elegant and lovely next to his emancipated figure; like a deer before a hyena. Lucius laughed then, a choked, coarse sound. He lifted his finger and traced her cheek with a tenderness that belied his appearance.   
  
Narcissa smiled. “The war?”  
  
“Finished.”  
  
Her smile brightened even further at that. “The Dark Lord?”  
  
“Gone.” Lucius breathed.  
  
Narcissa’s face didn’t change, but her eyes shone with a light Draco hadn’t seen in years.  
  
Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. “Mother? What’s going on?”  
  
Narcissa explained: “Do you remember when Professor Dumbledore visited us a few months ago?”  
  
“The old man?”  
  
Narcissa sighed in admonishment but continued. “Yes, Draco, the old man. He offered us immunity and his backing if we helped him and his Order. At last, the war has finished, and our family is safe.”

~

 

Draco scowled and vowed to put that and Harry out of his head. It didn’t do to dwell on what could be. He was Draco Malfoy, Son and Heir of the Malfoys, and Harry? Harry was the Light’s Saviour, and he would want nothing to do with Draco once he found out who he was.  
  
It didn’t do to dwell on Harry Potter, no matter how breathtaking those piercing chartreuse eyes were.  
  
_No!_ Draco shook himself abruptly and tuned into what McGonagall was saying.  
  
“I trust you found your way here easily enough, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.  
  
Draco watched Harry’s face keenly for a reaction, but Harry’s sunny disposition didn’t change. Yet. They would. Draco was sure of that.  
  
“Indeed, Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape was very thorough in his tour,” Draco drawled. “I apologise for the wait, I encountered a… delay on my way here.”  
  
“I see.’ McGonagall frowned, sceptical. ‘Well, I won’t keep you any longer than I must- you and Mr. Potter here must be getting to class, after all.”  
  
“Of course.” Draco dipped his head graciously.  
  
“There is only one thing I have to tell you. I have assigned Mr. Potter here to be your guide until you have settled in. He will answer any questions you might have and will guide you around the castle. Slytherin House shares classes with Gryffindor, so this arrangement will suit you both. Any questions?”  
  
“Just one. Wouldn’t it be easier for me to have a Slytherin guide, as I am, after all in Slytherin?”  
  
“Perhaps. But here at Hogwarts, we like to encourage Inter-House relations. If I recall correctly, this was why your Mother choose to send you here?”  
  
“Yes. She has always wished for me to attend Hogwarts, and the recently introduced Inter-House scheme convinced her I must come, even if only for my last year.”  
  
“You attended Beauxbatons before coming here, correct?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
‘So might I assume you are fluent in French?’  
  
‘Of course. Italian, as well.’  
  
McGonagall looked impressed. ‘Well, we only offer English classes here, but your lingual skills are impressive nonetheless.’  
  
Draco grimaced but nodded. He already knew this.  
  
‘Harry here is quite proficient in French, so if you ever wish to practice, I’m sure he would be more than willing.’  
  
Draco looked at Harry in surprise. He looked smug. The bastard.  
  
‘Professor McGonagall forgive me, but I can’t help but feel guilty forcing Harry to spend his time helping me. Perhaps there could be another alternative?’  
  
Harry’s smug expression dropped and hurt took its place. Draco ignored the twinge of guilt that came with it, reminding himself that this was for Harry’s own good.  
  
McGonagall smiled mildly. ‘You shouldn’t worry, Mr Malfoy. Mr Potter volunteered to guide you!’  
  
Draco continued, albeit confused. ‘Of course, Professor, but this was before he knew my name. My family’s history is…delicate, to say the least.’  
  
Both Harry’s and McGonagall’s expressions softened.   
  
‘Mr. Malfoy- ‘McGonagall started.  
  
Harry interrupted her. ‘I knew your name.’  
  
‘Sorry?’ Draco asked, disbelief colouring his voice.  
  
‘I knew your name when I volunteered, and I didn’t care. I still don’t.’ Harry stared at him stubbornly.

Draco sat back.  
  
‘So, what do you say?’ Harry braved. ‘Can we try?’ He stuck out his hand boldly.  
  
Draco’s mind was whirring at a breakneck pace, trying to decide the best course of action. He knew Harry was genuine- the boy didn’t have a dishonest bone in him. And judging by the glint in his gaze, Harry intended the offer was more than just friendship. Draco dared a glance at Harry. _Screw it._

  
‘Yes.’ He said, grasping Harry’s hand, and smiling hesitantly at the now beaming boy across him.

 

For the first time in a while, Draco felt hope, hope for a better future. A future with this boy, this man, even. A better future.

 


End file.
